


Welp, that was a Monumentally Bad Idea

by nephthyslaments



Series: The February 28th Universe [2]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:16:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephthyslaments/pseuds/nephthyslaments
Summary: Fanfic3112 you have to stop feeding the animals 'cuz this one is entirely your fault.





	Welp, that was a Monumentally Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

> You may want to read Love Letter as I reference different things from that story here.

He really had no one to blame but himself.  He knew, even after all these years, he really, _really_ knew better.  Or you would have thought so.

The penthouse for two had become an animal’s den to six, _count them (!)_ , six grown ass men.  And their various states of undress, personalities, and need to overcompensate for EVERY.  SINGLE.  THING.  And good God, the stench from the aforementioned bodies….

 _‘How many times have I sighed today and at what point will I finally pass out from lack of oxygen?’_ Akihito thought to himself as he delicately maneuvered around the mounds of dirty and unwashed clothing piled on every available open space.  (We’re not even going to mention the mountain of used dishes and distinct lack of edibles anywhere either.)

This had all started when he had the Monumentally Bad Idea to share a website he discovered with his co-workers.  It just went downhill from that point forward.

“Should have confiscated their cell phones as soon as they walked through the front door and held them hostage till they ALL left!  And then tossed them over the balcony.” he grumbled underneath his breath.

Oh no – couldn’t have just kept his mouth shut.  Once he had told them about the fandom centered around each and every one of them, PA’s were summoned to bring laptops, charging cords, docking stations and whatever other overpriced and useless computer paraphernalia they owned.

Various camps were then set up and a rousing, _NOT_ , game of Survivor – Finder series Shinjuku began.  The only thing missing by this point was a nightly bonfire and host Jeff Probst kicking people out of the penthouse based on the popularity vote.

What made this even more unpalatable was the unexpected and totally unwelcome arrival of Mikhail Arbatov, Sudou Shuu, and Sakazaki several evenings before.  One of the freeloaders, erm, “guests” had let slip that little tidbit about the fansite and they decided they wanted in on the action.

By this point in the morning, Akihito had discovered several disconcerting secrets about his three new roommates.  1 – Sakazaki actually wore a girdle, a **_woman’s_** girdle, underneath his clothing.  That wasn’t the worst part though because somehow he had talked the make-up and art departments into painting 8 pack abs and gluing hair on said piece of clothing.  **_And it was dyed to match his own skin tone!_**   2 – Sudou was actually a closet cross dresser.  Now, hey, to each his own, were Akihito’s thoughts on the matter.  He wasn’t exactly blameless in some of his choices as published by Green_Destiny (thanks a lot by the way for letting that cat out of the bag too) but he wasn’t swanning around the penthouse in a matching bra, panty, garters, and thigh high set either.  It wouldn’t have been so bad, but apparently Sudou’s predilection ran to crotchless ladies’ panties which _‘How the fuck does that even work?!?’_  ran on a loop through Akihito’s mind endlessly.  And Mik, good ol’ Mik, he might wear his normal swim trunks when he’s in a scene requiring a swimming pool and mostly naked and overinflated ladies but he had a secret love for the stereotypical black Speedo thong at least two sizes to small….which HE liked to swan around in AND strike various eye wateringly indecent poses whenever the mood struck him.  But to top off that mental mindfuck was the indisputable fact THE MAN DID NOT WAX.  ANYWHERE.  So Akihito and freelo…erm…guests were treated at times to the image of the “forest” being split by a tiny bit of stretchy fabric between a set of hairy as fuck butt cheeks.

This, mysteriously and inexplicably, had led to the most mind boggling passive/aggressive competition between him and Kirishima who was still smarting under the pairing of him and Suoh by said and previously mentioned fans.  Kirishima had decided, after learning that piece of news (and reading several fanfics), that he was going to out-Schwarzenegger, Schwarzenegger himself.  He had taken to body building with a single-minded purpose - neon colored banana hammocks, horrible orange spray tan, and all it entails.  He was even looking into lasik surgergy in order to lose his trademark glinty glasses.  By God, those fans were going to rue the day they even entertained the thought that he, Kirishima Kei, would bottom for any man let alone Suoh Kazumi.  Suoh would have been **_HIS_** bitch.

But we digress here…

Our usually unflappable hero was scared into complete wakefulness by the highly disturbing sight of both Mik and Kirishima standing as still as statues all the while flexing every muscle (and muscle on muscle) they had, banana hammocks thankfully on, while posing in front of the floor to ceiling windows that led onto the terrace.  Akihito might have even found the strength to ignore the duo and continue onto the kitchen to mine for food sources but the flash and glare from the rising sun temporarily blinded him causing him to shriek in a very unladylike manner and stumble backwards and over the top of Asami’s insanely expensive, all white, leather sofa.

Which is where we find freeload…erm…guest Yoh.

Who also happened to be a secret nudist and half-assed meditationalist in his spare time when he wasn’t killing worthless vermin for pennies on the dollar or looking brooding and mysterious and not talking much, or at all, in his scenes with Fei Long.  He had also taken man spreading to the extreme.  In fact, in his time on said insanely expensive, pure white, leather sofa while buck naked, he had turned it into an actual sport.  He was so Olympic level in the man spreading category that he would have put any gold medal gymnast in splits to eternal shame.  And that was how Akihito found himself with a face full of Yoh crotch in the Olympic level, man spread category this hellish morning.

“What the actual FUCK, Yoh?!?” Akihito screeched.

Yoh simply cracked an eye open during this mornings round of introspection and proceeded to sing “Hey Yoh.  Hey Yoh.  Daylight come and me wanna go home.”

Akihito stared at him in stunned silence for a bare moment before sputtering “You dumbass.  It’s ‘Day-O’ not ‘Hey Yoh.’

“I know but I make it sound so much better when I use my name.”  And with that profound statement, he closed his eye again and resumed working on moving past Olympic level in man spreading while seeking higher enlightenment than Buddha himself.

Scrambling in what can only be considered a very undignified manner to vacate the naked and man spread crotch of Yoh without touching ANYTHING, he face planted almost immediately over the lumps known as Fei Long and Suoh currently occupying valuable property on the ground.

Fei had taken Kirishima’s disses to his hair and manhood to heart and to the opposite extreme.  He currently sported a buzz cut that would have made any US Marine proud to call him “brother in arms” and wore the attendant olive green camo shirt and cargo pants, neatly tucked into standard issue black lace up boots.  What ruined the whole vibe, unfortunately, was the fact that this new look just made him look even more feminine and girly – more GI Jane instead of GI Joe.  So he sought to nullify this fact by boning up on his stealth and camouflage techniques by going out on the terrace during the day, smearing himself in potting soil from the tastefully placed plant urns and trying to blend in with the concrete slab of said terrace.  When he got tired of that, or too dehydrated, he would break out his gilley suit and use that to become one with the carpet in the living room where Asami’s insanely expensive, pure white, leather sofa resided with its stark naked and platinum level man spreading occupant.

Which is where Akihito found the last of the original freelo…erm…guests passed out in a food coma after stumbling in at god knows what time from the latest Tokyo World Champion Hot Dog eating contest.

Suoh had evidently decided at the start of this whole fanfiction and website debacle to take his degree in Imperial Studies and completely light it on fire while proceeding to wave it around in ever increasingly artistic displays of freeform dance as Yoh sang his highly edited version of the Harry Belafonte classic, “The Banana Boat Song.”  (See above paragraphs to refresh your memory).  And then jumped not feet first, but whole body, into the world of competitive eating.  He was currently neck and neck with reigning champion Takeru Kobayashi on the hot dog front but seriously lagging behind in Twinkies and tacos.  This had led to the current scarcity of food in the penthouse as everything was going to build up Suoh’s stamina and bullheaded desire to dethrone Kobayashi.  Also he now appeared to be around nine months pregnant with at least one set of octuplets.

Staggering back to his hands and knees all the while wondering how many more days till February 28th and the continuation of their ongoing adventures as scripted by sensei, Akihito came face to crotch with the king of the jungle, er, penthouse himself, Asami Ryuichi.

Now Akihito could admit in all fairness and _comparison_ to the other “roommates” that Asami had weathered this transition with the most grace.  Until he considered the fact that Asami had made the executive decision that he didn’t necessarily need his three-piece designer suit every single day matched to that goddamn butterfly necktie that seemed to clone itself every chance it got.  His new idea of “appropriate work attire” consisted of his indecently tight black boxer briefs, with performance options, whatever the fuck that meant.  The only issue with said “executive decision” is that he no longer had _pockets_ in which to carry the ever-present box of Dunhill cigarettes and lighter.  So certified genius he was he got around this pocketless obstacle by shoving said box of Dunhill’s down the front of the previously described performance enhanced indecently tight black boxer briefs.  Akihito had no idea where the lighter went and frankly had absolutely no desire to pursue that train of thought, afraid of where it might lead in all actuality.

Staring down at Akihito, who was still on his hands and knees in the living room next to the two human shaped lumps known as Fei and Suoh, with his usual smirk plastered across his lips and smouldering golden eyes, Asami said “Good morning, kitten.  I stayed up late last night reading some Amelita and Delmire and I must say, they described several very interesting ideas that I think should be fully explored to _completion_ this morning.”

Yep.  That had been one Monumentally Bad Idea when Akihito turned all of them onto AO3.

**_Tokyo International Airport_ **

Yamane Ayano huddled even further into the nondescript coat she had bought to disguise herself all the while tugging her head scarf further down and adjusting the Jackie O style sunglasses that hid most of her face.  She was sitting in the VIP section of the airport clutching a cup of cold green tea that she had forgotten she even had.

Reports had started to filter into her office at home days ago regarding the goings on of Asami Ryuichi, Takaba Akihito and their band of merrily dysfunctional dwarves.  Each new piece of information flabbergasted her more and more until she finally reached the point where her sanity finally decided it was time to take advantage of that over ten years of vacation time she had saved up.

Sitting in the VIP section waiting to be called for first class boarding on JapanAir, all she could think was, _‘I hear Hawaii is really nice, warm, and Finder free this time of year….’_

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, for my wonderful author Anon. You're the best! And also my husband (aka Richard Cranium) - yes dear, I've finally taken up residence on that special level of crazy.


End file.
